


unrequited - d.malfoy

by foreverquestioning



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Love Triangles, Smut and Angst, The Golden Trio, not much fluff, toxic draco malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverquestioning/pseuds/foreverquestioning
Summary: ❝ You know you don't have to do this, right? ❞❝ Do what? ❞❝ Pretend that you care. ❞❝ Who said I was pretending? ❞« 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 »𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑ORDER OF THE PHOENIX-DEATHLY HALLOWSEXTENDED SUMMARY INSIDE
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> TW: toxic relationships, cheating, rough sex, mature scenes, and torturing

Clementine Sinclair has been Harry Potter's girlfriend so long she cannot imagine her life without him.

Draco Malfoy has been pining for Clementine Sinclair so long he cannot imagine his life without the utter devastation he has felt seeing her be with Harry. Despite every last fiber of his being begging him not to pursue any endeavors with her, Draco finds himself unable to resist after Clementine and Harry's timely split.

The two begin a relationship at the end of their fifth year, regardless of protests coming from Clementine's friends and Draco's inner morals. It seems Draco has the girl he's always wanted, Clementine a nice distraction from the brewing war.

But then sixth year comes.

Draco is burdened with a task so insurmountable he finds himself sabotaging the relationship he waited so long to have. Mistake after mistake he proves all of Clementine's doubts _right_ ,—he breaks her heart a little more.

Inevitably, they separate. 

But people have a way of finding their way to each other.


	2. Disclaimer

hello!! just a quick disclaimer that I do not own Harry Potter and the plotline with the exception of Clementine Sinclair and her story. All rights go to Dobby, who wrote the book and later published it under the name JK Rowling. 

I will also be changing a few aspects of the story, so please don't comment if something does not completely align with the book! trust the process! thank you xx 

P.S this was originally posted on Wattpad, but after consideration, I have decided to post here as well to be safe!


	3. I. Harboring Never Goes Right

She was running late this morning. That wasn't a rare occurrence, for it was common to forget her robes, the Potions essay she had for homework, and even at times, her wand. As she was rushing past several lost looking first years, thoughts of her forgetfulness dancing in her mind, she felt the familiar panic of facing Snape's wrath settle in her bones. She was surely going to face detention now. The strict professor had always been particularly hostile towards her. It might've been because of her association with Harry Potter, or because of her general distaste for Slytherin, which came across in strides.

Nevertheless, she knew she would not be able to watch the meteor shower Friday night at the Astronomy Tower with Harry or help Ron with his Charms homework Thursday. She was booked solid for this week, a seat in detention waiting with her name on it.

Her fears were confirmed when she barged into the Potion's classroom, the combined Slytherin and Gryffindor eyes settling upon her rustled appearance.

"Miss Sinclair...would you please be so kind as to take a seat now that you have decided to grace us with your presence?" Snape announced, in his slow, careful drawl. Clementine blushed furiously and quickly settled in her usual seat next to Harry. She could feel his eyes on her, questioning her lateness, when she heard Snape's voice break through her stupor. "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor, and a week's detention for you Miss Sinclair." 

Clementine grimaced.

The detention, she expected, but twenty points? He simply could not be serious.

As if having a direct line to her thoughts, Harry quickly spoke up,

"You have to be joking Professor Snape."

Clementine felt herself still. The last thing she needed, the last thing all of them needed, was another infamous row between Harry Potter and Snape. Before she could stop herself, she felt herself reach for Harry's hand, an effort to ground him. Please, Harry, she thought, Please not now. Snape simply smirked, clearly relishing the fact that he would now be able to take another twenty points from Gryffindor.  
"I would be glad to remind you, Potter, that I am the teacher for this subject, and that I alone decide the punishments for my pupils. Another twenty from Gryffindor," Snape declared.

The collective groan was audible throughout the classroom. She heard Seamus, "Bloody Potter," and Lavender Brown, "Gods, does Potter ever learn his lesson?" After beginning to feel the early signs of a panic attack, her heart racing, and her mind going completely, utterly blank, she forced herself to breathe. To remember that whatever happened last year, and what has been happening the entire summer, does not put a direct target on Harry's back.

But this was in vain. For not only was it a target placed on him, but a bounty as well.

In part, though, her concerns were silly. Seamus wouldn't harm a hair on Harry's head, and Lavender was just looking for something to mouth off on. Harry knew this quite well, but he also knew that Clementine did not. He could tell by the way her perfectly cut nails dug into her palms, leaving behind the familiar crescent-shaped scars he would later kiss one by one, laying in her dormitory. He knew by the way her breathing sped, her pulse in her neck jumping.

When Snape finally dismissed them, and Clementine frantically gathered her belongings to rush to Charms, Harry knew he had to comfort her. It was what he always did. Rushing out of the freezing classroom, he quickly caught up to her, grabbing the hood of her robes to still her movements. "Clem, why don't I walk you to Charms?" He asked, slipping his hand gently into hers. Clem, her usual stubborn self, shook her head, 

"No, Harry. You have Transfiguration on the other side of the castle. Don't be ridiculous."

The longer the relationship went on, Harry thought, the more the quirks and fierceness Clem carried began to look like defects or inconveniences. Why couldn't she just let herself be walked? Why was she so difficult? 

"I'm sure McGonagall can last five minutes without me. Come on, let's hurry."

Clem gave in, of course. She always does. Just as she relaxed next to Harry, her soft hand wrapping around his arm, the negative thoughts he had had about his relationship began to weigh on him. The guilt was stifling, wrapping its arms around his throat, squeezing so tight he loosened his necktie. He and Clem had been together for years. They were an institution, something that was considered a constant. How could he ever think so horribly of her?

*~*

Clementine and Harry had begun dating their second year, barely twelve years old. Clem had known of Harry's deep admiration for her, and how he would bash his friends about her braveness and intelligence. The pair had meaningful discussions by the light of the fireplace in the common room most nights, Harry sharing his deepest fears, Clementine sharing hers. It was obvious the two had something there, even if it was just the slightest bit.

They were inseparable, the best of friends until they just...became more.

Harry could not even remember directly asking her to be his girlfriend—their relationship was just that seamless. And ever since that fateful second year, with all the adventures Harry, Ron, Hermione, and occasionally Clem embarked on, Harry and Clementine became the most prominent Hogwarts pairing. Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory had come a close second, but even with Cedric's passing, they could not come close to Harry and Clem's reputation, or status.

But that was all about to change. Harry was harboring secrets that he knew would wreck his strong, independent Clementine into pieces. And he was determined to hide them for as long as he could.


	4. II. Blond-Haired Vixen

"You can't be serious, Clementine. You and Harry haven't..." Hermione trailed off, opening another Chocolate Frog. The two friends were sitting in the small window bed, gossiping in their dorm room. It was one of those rare occurrences where Lavender and the rest of their nosy roommates were busy, off snogging their boyfriends or watching either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor Quidditch practice. 

"No! We've gotten close, though. Last summer, at the Burrow. Before we left for the World Cup, Harry was basically naked and I—" 

Hermione cut her off abruptly, "Oh, God! I do not need to hear about how Harry Potter was about to shag his girlfriend!" She threw a pillow at Clem, the two girl's laughter resonating in the dorm.

"Hey, you asked! And it's not like I'm the Virgin Mary, you know. We have—" 

Hermione cut her off again, this time chucking several candy wrappers at her. They laughed again until their laughter died down and their thoughts began to race. Hermione loved Clementine, absolutely adored her. She knew how good she was for Harry, how well she balanced him out. This is why carrying the burden of Harry's transgressions against Clem weighed heavily on her. She fought a constant battle between telling Clem, her best friend, all the things Harry was desperate to hide from her, or keeping her mouth shut, and letting Harry tell his girlfriend on his own.

It was a battle she almost lost constantly.

"Earth to 'Mione? I can see those wheels turning there. Go on, tell me," Clem joked, snapping her fingers in Hermione's line of vision. Hermione giggled softly, hoping her smile defused some of the building tension. 

It did. 

"Sorry, just thinking. I had Defense Against the Dark Arts today, and needless to say Umbridge is a..." Clem, nowhere near as kind as Hermione, finished her sentence, 

"A reigning bitch, you say?" 

"Well, yes. I was thinking, actually..."

And there, in that small, messy dorm room, was where the idea for Dumbledore's Army was born.

*~*

Draco Malfoy was pureblood, handsome, and arrogant. Not only that—he was a complete and utter arsehole. Never would he pass up the opportunity to terrorize Potter and his gang of misfits, or to insult any person he deemed below him. 

Draco Malfoy was a bad person. 

But—at least he was self-aware. Right? 

Draco, though, was just mean. He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't capable of torturing some poor soul for hours on end. He was a school-yard bully, not a—a...

Death Eater.

There were about a million things Draco was unsure of. His complete abhorrence towards the Death Eaters was not one of them.

His feelings towards the small, fragile-looking Sinclair girl, however, was. He remembered quite clearly seeing her on the Hogwarts Express so many years ago, lost and eager. He remembered the silly, childish hope he had that she would be sorted into Slytherin, and how quickly that hope was crushed when the Sorting Hat bellowed from her head, "Gryffindor." It was only a matter of time before Potter—lovely, perfect Potter, set his sights on her. And before Draco could even build up the courage to approach her, it was too late. She belonged to him now.

His hatred of her almost outweighed his adoration. But just when he would think—finally, I don't like her anymore—

He would catch sight of her brushing hair off her neck, exposing it in its raw unfiltered beauty. 

The scent of her Muggle perfume would waft towards him in passing periods, suffocating his olfactory receptors until he had to wash out his nose to get rid of the smell. 

Or he'd see her smile. That damned, intoxicating smile.

Memories danced through Draco's head. Seeing her and Potter together at Flourish & Blotts two summers ago, snogging. Watching her dance with him at the Yule Ball, her face the picture of pure, uninterrupted happiness. Lastly, and the most gruesome of all, watching her comfort a wailing Harry after Cedric Diggory came back from the Tournament dead. His hands slid into his white-blond hair, tugging it in frustration. He hated feeling like this, feeling so...so helpless. Draco Malfoy was not one to get his knickers in a twist over some small, inconsequential girl from his rival house.

And yet here he was, having spent the last five years doing just that. 

So deep in thought, he did not notice Blaise and Crabbe slip into the common room. He heard them eventually, taunting some silly first year for agreeing with Harry Potter. Draco could hear them clearly now, could hear the taunts. 

"Harry Potter is nothing more than a liar, and so it seems, are you." 

"That twat is hiding things, who's to say he didn't kill Cedric himself?" 

He resisted the urge to get up. To punch them both in their stupid, stupid faces. The Dark Lord truly was back. This he knew. But there was no universe in which he would ever defend Potter, especially in this one, where he fancied his girlfriend. Annoyed, and quite frankly, pissed off, he stormed out of the common room and set off towards the familiar Willow tree in which he always took comfort. On his way there, his dress shoes smacking on the concrete below him, he heard it. A soft crying, so soft that it missed most ears. 

He wavered. The return of the Lord his father worshiped had shaken him to his core—had made him want to be so suffocatingly good the Dark Lord never brushed his eyes past him. Comforting the crying stranger could be considered an act of goodness, one that may help build his new facade so high it could be considered believable. 

But on the other, he truly couldn't give a fuck. He had better things to do—more important ones. His decision made, he strode past the source of the noise until he spotted the familiar Mary-Janes peeking out from the corridor.

It was her. Sinclair. 

Whatever decision he made, forgotten, he strode towards her. Her head snapped up abruptly, and it took Draco a second to compose himself. She had grown beautiful over the summer. 

She had always been attractive, yes, but never in that obviously beautiful sort of way. But now, looking into her dark brown eyes, he felt his knees buckle from under him. This was a completely different Clementine Sinclair than the one he'd seen at the end of fourth year.   
"What is it, Malfoy?" she spat at him, much gentler than she would've liked.

It was now that Draco realized he hadn't uttered a single word. Flustered, he replied, "I was just making sure you were okay. I heard your crying." 

She narrowed her eyes at him, sizing him up. "I'm not a complete prat, you know? You're probably here to see what you can use against Harry in your next row." The words struck Draco, slicing open his wounds. He felt his stupid pride take over, bubbling to the surface. 

"Right, like I would waste my time talking to Harry Potter's girlfriend?" he replied. The way her bright eyes seemed to glisten at him made his chest ache uncomfortably, and he regretted approaching her in the first place.

"Well, what do you believe you're doing right now?" Draco rolled his eyes, a practiced, calculated movement. 

"Look, I'm just here to make sure you don't off yourself, alright?" 

Clementine flinched. "I'm sorry to be such a bother, then," she declared, then stormed off. 

As Draco watched her retreating figure, the conclusion he had made years ago became infinitely clear. 

His love for her would always be unrequited.


	5. III. Short-tempered Boys

Clementine simply did not know what to think. A part of her knew Harry would never lie to her—ever. Another knew that the taunts coming from others did make sense sometimes. This did not mean she thought Harry killed Cedric, of course she didn't. But Harry must've been drunk on the adrenaline coursing through him and mistaken the true killer for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Her pulse had hammered when she planned to tell Harry that afternoon, anxiousWhat good was a relationship for, if they couldn't be honest with one another?

Harry's reaction was...absolutely ireful.

There was screaming, yes. Of course there was. But there was something else. A side of Harry was revealed to Clementine, a side she had never seen before. She thought of the fight, of the saliva spewing from Harry's mouth, the vein in his neck bulging. She thought of his hands on her shoulders, so tight she knew she now sported bruises in the shape of his hands.

Out of everyone, I thought at least you would believe me!

I'm not bloody crazy, Clementine! Shut up, you tweed bitch!

She quickly shut down those thoughts, as she once again began to feel another panic attack surfacing. And before her exhausted thoughts could stop—she was catapulting towards thoughts of Malfoy. 

Who did he think he was, approaching her like that? Blimey, who did she think _she_ was, almost giving in to his comfort? She instantly recalled the battle she fought momentarily, of whether or not to fall into him, and cry onto his chest until there was simply nothing left. How absolutely bonkers she had to be if she was finding comfort with _Malfoy_.

Just as she was entering the common room, Ron and Hermione's glare at her breaks her from her stupor—questioning looks on their faces. At least...Hermione's was questioning. Ron's was accusing. 

"What is it?" Clementine asked, removing her robe. It was stifling inside the common room. 

"You know bloody well what it is, Sinclair," Ron spat. Clementine rolled her eyes. Did Ron really think calling her by her last name was an insult to her?

"Ron, calm down a bit, okay?" Hermione said softly. She looks up, meeting Clementine's gaze. "Clem, we need you to tell us what happened between you and Harry. He's been up in the dormitory forever, ever since you stormed out of here hours ago. Did you have a row?" 

Clem couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's words. "A row? We had much more than just a bloody row, Hermione. I'm positive Harry wants nothing to do with me." 

Hermione's face fell. _She must know about last year_ , Hermione thought, _and now it's ruined. It's all ruined_.

However, Ron knew full well the fight had nothing to do with Harry's dishonesty. He quickly spoke up, "Of course you did, Clementine. Accusing him of lying about last year? You can't be serious." The words made Hermione's racing pulse quickly slow, and she gently took Clem's hand in hers. 

"He...he was distraught Clem. Whatever he said to you...whatever he did, he regrets it now. Trust me." As if summoned, the trio heard Harry's voice call out from the dormitory,

"Is that her?"

Clem's breathing stilled. She felt her toes twitch, begging her to run. To run as far as she could and not stop until she was safe. She was about to bolt when Harry appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Clem..." he whispered, taking tentative steps towards her. Clem, before she could register what was happening, took steps back. Harry took note of this, his heart breaking with each step she took back. Each step away from him.

Hermione and Ron exited soundlessly, knowing that now was one of those rare times they had to let the couple work their issues out alone. "Please, Clementine. I'm not going to hurt you. I won't even touch you just," Harry paused, seizing the strength to continue, "please. Please let me talk to you."

Hearing the heartbreak in his voice broke through the fear in Clementine. She stilled and eventually settled into an armchair, Harry opposite her. "Well, go on then," she whispered, fiddling with the hem of her blouse. 

"I'm so sorry, Clementine. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you I've just...been so on edge lately," he whispered. "I was an absolute twat to you, I know. I will never lay a hand on you like that again." 

Clem sat and thought for a moment.

She didn't want to admit it, but she was scared. Not of Harry, but of _losing_ Harry. This relationship was slowly becoming the only constant in her life, the only thing she could count on unwaveringly. She knew she was falling out of love, she knew the spark was dying.

But she was scared. So, very scared of being alone.

She smiled slightly, reaching out for Harry's hand. And uttered two words that were blatant, outright lies.

"It's okay."

*~*

"Are...are you completely sure?" Harry whispered, shifting uncomfortably on top of her. "Don't think this is something we have to do. I love you either way—"

"Harry, stop," she tells him. "I want to...I—I want to be close to you. Please," she wraps her legs around his hips and pulls him flush against her, "do this with me. Please." 

Her words were endearing. Sweet, almost. And yet...she was mostly lying. 

She just wanted to get this experience over with. She didn't know when she'd be with a bloke as kind or loving as Harry, and she wanted to make sure her first was with someone in his character. 

"Clem, I'm not sure—"

Her lips pressed into his. Her hips cantered in time with the lush kiss and made Harry's breathing hitch, a small groan slipping from his clenched teeth. "Oh, fuck—" he choked out.

"Are you sure now?" she whispered against his mouth. Harry simply moaned in response and bucked his hips against her harder. 

He seemed so... _euphoric_. 

And she was just laying there. A vessel for his pleasure. 

She doesn't quite remember the moment all their clothes went flying off. It all just happened so quickly; one moment, he was hovering on top of her fully clothed, and now—his trousers were down and he was rubbing against the semi-slick folds of her hole. 

He had been so adamant about assuring she was fine. But somewhere in the haze of his lust, he had forgotten, and he was thrusting into her so harshly a choked gasp slid up her throat. It was breathy—so he must've mistaken it for one of pleasure. 

There was no pleasure. Just pain—so much of it that her vision blurred with tears. 

_This is normal,_ she reassured herself. _It's supposed to hurt the first time. This is normal._

He barely gave her a second to adjust before he was snapping in deeper, her name falling from his lips like a prayer. Another whimper from Clem—high-pitched and rich with emotion. She almost opened her mouth to say that he was hurting her and that he should slow down, but—

He looked so relaxed. So, _at ease_ , that it felt like a crime to interrupt him. 

It must've lasted another twenty seconds before a hot, warm liquid shot into her abdomen. Harry gave one last broken moan before settling his face in the crook of her neck; breathing heavily. 

"Merlin, Clem...that was—" he sighs, kissing her neck gently. "Did—did you...?" 

"Er—yeah," she lied. "I was just quiet. Sorry." 

"Don't be so quiet next time—"

Her heart sputtered at the thought of a next time. 

"—I want to hear you. Okay?" 

She nodded, ignoring the feeling of _something_ slipping out of her slowly, making her blood curl and an urge to vomit appear strongly. Harry kissed her gently before moving off of her. There was a certain leisure pace as he put his clothes on, and he seemed in no rush to leave. 

It made Clem think he paid off her dormitory mates to sleep somewhere else for the night. 

After he had his underwear on and his glasses set aside, Harry threw Clem the quidditch jumper he had been wearing and waited for her to put it on. Laughing at how her arms drowned in the sleeves, Harry settled in next to her and pulled her to his chest. 

"Thank you," he says softly into her hair, caressing it. "Thank you, Clem." 

When he fell asleep, she went to the bathroom. 

Scrubbed and scrubbed until the feeling of his hands on her waist and his dick inside her went away. 

*~*

"Harry, we might be late for potions. Let's go," Clementine announced, pulling her boyfriend off of his seat. Harry took one last bite of his toast, and followed her, wrapping an arm around his waist. Their relationship, before last night, had never really had any physical chemistry. There was an attraction, of course, but there was never that ache within them, that need to touch each other. But now, now that Harry knew how good her touch felt like, he never wanted to be without it again.

Clementine's own attraction towards Harry had...plateuad. She didn't find herself removing his arm from her or resisting when he suddenly pulled her into a secluded corridor. Nor did she resist when he was suddenly kissing her, a cacophony of sensations filling her. Her hands reached into his hair, tugging it and desperate for his mouth. Harry responded the same, using the small of her back to pull her even closer than she already was.

The pair, completely absorbed in one another, didn't notice the nosy blond boy watching them from the end of the corridor. They didn't notice him clench his jaw, or the vein bulging from his pale forehead. 

But he noticed them. Oh, he _definitely_ noticed them. He noticed the way Potter manhandled her, treating her as if a piece of meat. Sinclair tugged on his hair, and Draco desperately wanted to know how it would feel to have it done to him. Forcing down the bile coming up his throat, he approached them, clutching his bookbag tightly.

Clearing his throat, Harry and Clementine separated, a horrible suction sound coming from their joined mouths. Upon seeing Draco, Harry sneered. "What is it Malfoy? I'm a bit preoccupied here." It took every ounce of willpower in Draco not to punch that stupid smirk off Harry's face. Draco and Clementine locked eyes, Draco's vision trailing to her swollen mouth. Clem didn't seem to notice, but Harry did. Pushing her behind him, he pointed his wand at Draco's throat.

"Oi, get your eyes off my girlfriend's mouth, git!" Draco wavered. He didn't expect Potter to notice the way Clementine's freshly kissed mouth distracted him or the way it rendered him incapable of speech for a moment. Plucking up his courage, he pushed Potter away from him. 

"Don't flatter her, Potter. She's not much of a looker." 

Clem, despite herself, felt hurt at his words. She had expected that after this summer, a summer where she felt she had bloomed into her new face, her new personality, Malfoy would lay off the "Harry Potter has an ugly girlfriend" argument. She was obviously very, very wrong.

Harry, having noticed the reaction Malfoy drew from his girlfriend, gripped her hand tightly. He hoped that everything he was thinking, of how she was beautiful, how she was so undeniably attractive he couldn't keep his hands off of her, could be perceived through his actions to Clementine.

They weren't.

Just as Harry was raising his wand to hex Malfoy, Filch appeared in the corridor. Harry decided to cut his losses, and dragged Clementine away, leading her to the Potion's classroom. The second the nauseating couple disappeared from view, Draco felt the familiar guilt settling within him, pushing past each and every one of his defenses and planting a flag in his bones. Sinclair didn't have to say anything, her face alone was enough to have Draco doubling over, repulsed by himself.

Draco desperately wanted to blame Harry—for having her, for snogging her but he knew he couldn't. His actions were nobody's fault but his own.


	6. IV. Getting Lost is Good for the Soul

Two days after the unpleasant interaction with Malfoy, Clementine and Harry were walking arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade, on another weekend trip. Ron and Hermione, their not-so-silent companions, were chattering away about what the next lesson of the DA would entail. The news was buzzing around the club, that Umbridge had just issued a new decree. Though the members knew from the beginning that the organization would be illicit, the new decree was the final nail in the coffin. From now on, if they were caught, there was no telling what their punishment would entail. Thinking of all of the endless possibilities, Clementine remembered Harry's scarred hand, a product of his detention with Umbridge.

She reached for it, tracing her fingers lightly over the outline of the letters. _I must not tell lies._

Harry pulled his hand away abruptly, "It's fine, Clem. Stop hovering," he said, not as gently as he would've liked. 

Clementine shook her head. Why couldn't he just drop the hero act for once in his life? "Well, forgive me for wanting to check up on your injury. I promise it won't happen again, Potter." And with that final decree, she stormed off.

Clementine regretted leaving the second the trio was out of sight. She truly didn't mean to snap at Harry that way, but she had been too on edge lately. They all were. Clementine knew her sudden influx of emotions was no excuse to treat Harry like rubbish, she really did. 

But the couple had been together so long, they knew when to give each other space.

So that's exactly what Harry did. "Let her be, Hermione. She needs a break," he muttered, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. Hermione threw an apprehensive look in Ron's way, knowing full well how Harry usually reacts when Clementine is angry with him. And knowing that this was not that behavior. But Hermione opted to give Harry the benefit of the doubt—after all, it really was not her place. Right?

Clementine was completely, utterly, lost. She had wandered off from the familiar Hogsmeade roads, now closer to the countryside of Scotland than she was to the castle. She felt her mouth go dry, her hands clenching into fists.

Breathe. Deep breaths in, deep ones out.

Clementine repeated this mantra in her head until the words lost their meaning and simply made her head hurt.

She had reached a fork in the road and decided to just walk back, and try to retrace her steps as best she could. After all, what option did she have? Decision made, she turned around, only to run into a hard chest that smelled distinctly of Dior Sauvage.

She knew that cologne anywhere.

"Malfoy," she whispered. She silently cursed the universe for sending her the absolute last person she would want. Draco, on the other hand, was flustered. Had she seen him following her, from a safe distance away? Is that why she had suddenly changed course? Deep in thought, he didn't notice when his hands reached to her biceps, rubbing them in long, stroking motions. The cold was beginning to settle in, and Clementine had forgotten to layer her clothing this morning. Draco took notice, for the cold was tangible through her cloak and light sweater.

She had opened her mouth to protest, but the sweet relief she felt from the friction was too good to object. She felt a warmth begin to flood through her, filling her from the top of her head to her toes. After a few blissful seconds, she snapped out of the oblivion Draco's hands had sent her to. Abruptly, she wrestled out of his grip, clutching her cloak tighter to her skin.

"I—" she began, but her throat swelled up and cut her off tersely. "I have no idea where we are. Do you?" She prided herself on the fact she didn't waver this time. 

Draco nodded, "Yes. Come on, I'll walk you back to Hogsmeade." She muttered a quick thanks, and the two were off.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the only noise coming from Draco's heavy breathing. Eventually, the silence became suffocating, and Draco thought he would pass out if he had to spend another minute in this awkward reticence with her. "Uh, where'd Potter go off to?" He asked—a desperate attempt to make conversation. As soon as the words left his mouth Draco knew it was the wrong thing to say.

He loathed the way her beautiful brown eyes began to fill with tears and the small tortured sound that came from her throat was enough to have his heart growing heavy. "Oh, I'm so—" he began, but Clementine cut him off, 

"No, it isn't you. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. What happened was entirely my fault, I got lost by my own accord." 

The blond boy next to her felt the familiar fury fill his veins. "Sinclair, I don't know what happened but I'm almost positive that it was due to Harry being a git and not your fault at all."

Despite herself, Clem smiled softly. The only person to ever call Harry a git to her face (besides Ron) was Malfoy. She found herself relishing the fact that Harry, who was deemed untouchable by so many, didn't seem so untouchable to him. "I suppose. It was both our faults, really. I shouldn't blame him alone," she responded, releasing the tight clutch from her cloak. As her hand fell by her side, she felt Malfoy's brush lightly against her own. She jerked away as if repulsed by his touch. And Draco, who was in a giving mood today, ignored the gesture, deciding to slip his hand into his pant pocket.

Abandoning the idea that the two could carry a conversation without arguing, Draco resigned himself to walk in silence with her. After all, just being so close to her was a gift within itself. He shouldn't push his luck. 

"So, you and Pansy, right? How have you guys been doing?" Queried Clementine. 

Draco felt his heart plummet to his toes. 

The thought of telling her of his... _involvements_ sickened him. He was aware that Sinclair already had qualms regarding his character, Draco was not delusional. But somehow, the idea of telling her of other girls he had been with, how he had been such a git to them...felt _wrong_. It felt as if he was admitting to infidelity.

Which was absurd.

"Pansy and I broke it off after the Yule Ball last year," he replied, after reciting his inner monologue. 

"Oh, that's unfortunate. I hope I'm not being too intrusive, but...how come?" Draco almost couldn't contain his laughter.

_Because anyone close enough can see my complete infatuation with you, Sinclair,_ he thought. Instead, he choked out: "I wasn't too involved in the relationship, that's all." Clementine nodded, as if she could understand. Draco knew that she could not possibly comprehend the idea of losing interest in your relationship. She was in a perfect relationship with perfect Potter, what could be dodgy about that?

After that, any ideas that either of them had about conversation seemed unlikely. And this time, neither of them had the valor to utter any queries. They arrived at Hogsmeade, finally, and were greeted at Honeydukes by Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Clementine shrunk into her skin, revolted by the death glare Harry was sending Draco. "I should probably leave, wouldn't want to cause any problems between you and Potter," Draco whispered to her, taking a good look at her for the first time since he found her. As always, he felt his heart hammer, his limbs turn to jelly. 

"That'd probably be a good idea," Clem joked, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Harry, who could not hear the conversation, had no idea that Draco was not proclaiming his feelings for his girlfriend, and that Clementine was not flirting with him. All he knew was that Draco was looking at her in the way only Harry does, and Clem had a stupid half-smile on her face. He felt his hand twitch, itching to reach for his wand. Just as he decided to approach Draco and teach the maggot a lesson, he turned and exited the small shop.

Before Harry could open his mouth to accuse her, Clementine opened her own, "Shut it, Harry. I got lost and Draco helped me find my way back." 

Harry laughed, a cold, bitter laugh, "Oh, so he's Draco now? Good to know." 

Clementine felt her ears redden, her tell-tale sign of embarrassment. She hadn't meant to call Draco by his first name, it had just slipped out. "No, he's not. I slipped up. Come on, let's go back to the castle. I heard there's pumpkin pie for lunch today." She reached for his hand, and Harry, who was in no mood to argue, did not object.

Ron and Hermione joined them, oblivious to the ticking time bomb walking alongside them. Ron and Harry dove into a conversation regarding Quidditch, and how the Gryffindor team was going to win the Cup this year with Harry off it. As they talked, Clementine felt Harry's hands go to her biceps, rubbing them the same way Draco had earlier. Eager, she waited for the familiar warmth to flood her, and bliss to over-take her senses.

It never did.


	7. V. Hot For Teacher

Draco had been staring at the cat clock so long it seemed to be doubling in his vision. Absent-mindedly, he fiddled with the sleeve of his robes, half-listening to Umbridge rant on and on about Hogwarts. He wasn't really interested if he was being honest. The only reason he even signed up for the Inquisitorial Squad was to get back at Potter and Weasel. It was obvious the pair were hiding something, and something monumental. His feelings for Sinclair aside, he was determined to bring about the fall of Harry Potter. To him, Sinclair would just be collateral damage.

At least, that's what he would say to make himself feel better.

"Are we clear, students?" Umbridge's tone of voice snapped Draco out of his reverie. When no one responded, Draco took it upon himself, 

"Yes, Professor. Find out what they're up to, and report back to you with any advancements." Umbridge smiled widely, a smile that might seem friendly to others, but horrific to Draco. As they all began to file out, Draco felt a distinct pull on the hood of his robes. He turned, ready to curse out whoever dared mess with Draco Malfoy, and was greeted by Blaise, who looked somewhat distraught.

"What is it?" Draco asked, sliding on his mask of indifference. 

"Look, Draco, you're my best mate so I would like for you to be honest with me," Blaise stated. Draco immediately recoiled at his words. Recent events ran through his mind, as Draco combed through his memories to identify what Blaise could be talking about.

"Do you fancy Clementine Sinclair?" 

The question caught Draco off-guard. He had been meticulous in making sure he left no traces of his attraction to her, the only exception being Pansy. But even she had enough honor not to blab to anyone. "What?" Draco replied, dumbfounded. 

"I saw you two together at Hogsmeade last weekend, and the two of you seemed pretty friendly." When he elicited no response, Blaise tried again, "Well, do you fancy her or not mate?"

Draco blinked one time. Then another. Finally, he managed to pluck up the courage to respond, "Are you mad? Of course I don't fancy her. She's kind of pug looking anyways, isn't she?" Blaise laughed out of politeness but didn't agree with Draco's words. 

Sinclair may have been pug-faced for years, but something had changed this time. Now, he saw her as anything but pug-faced. After a quick conversation between the two boys, Blaise took off in the direction of the common room, while Draco opted to stay behind to "clear something up with Umbridge". The second his friend left his line of sight; Draco slammed his book bag onto the ground.

Why did she have to be so _bloody_ intoxicating? Why did she have to have those damned eyes—eyes that could have him confessing his darkest secrets in just seconds? If she was just a bit less...less intriguing, he wouldn't be down this bad. 

It made him angry. It still does. 

Some inconsequential Mudblood was consuming his thoughts—had been for almost five years. It made him kick the stone wall so hard he winced, about to cry out cursing—

When he saw a familiar face gawking at him from the end of the corridor. He immediately recognized the wild curls, the unmistakable scent of old books. Hermione Granger had witnessed his violent outbreak and had every intention of confronting him about it.

*~*

"What's that one right there?" Clementine whispered, pointing at a cluster of stars. 

"Cassiopeia," Harry replied, pulling his girlfriend closer to him. 

"Can you tell me the story behind it? You know how it gets my mind off things," Clem asked, as Harry traced undistinguishable patterns on her back. She sighed contently as Harry's hand soothed her into peaceful oblivion. 

"She was a queen. A very vain one. She boasted she had beauty better than the sea nymphs, and because of that, she was banished to the sky for all to gawk at." 

Clementine shifted her body into a more comfortable position, "Well, that hardly seems fair."

She felt Harry laugh beneath her and felt her delight soar at the sound. It was night's like these, with the pair of them looking at the sky on the Astronomy Tower, that it felt as if the events of last year never happened. As if Cedric Diggory was never murdered, or as if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not on the rise again.

As if Harry didn't cheat on her last year.

"I love you," Harry said, holding Clementine as tight as he possibly could. 

"I love you too." 

They laid on their blankets in silence for a couple of minutes, basking in the first moment alone they had had in days. "Clem...I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately," Harry said sincerely. "Just with Voldemort, and all the bullocks the Daily Prophet's been spouting, I just have so much pent-up frustration I keep taking out on you. I promise I'll be a better boyfriend," he paused to recover from the crack in his voice, "so that you can be happy. That's all I want for you."

Clementine reached up so she could tangle her fingers in his dark hair, brushing it off his forehead. As she looked up at her boyfriend, she couldn't help feeling the adoration in her. As badly as things had been going, she still was in love with him. Were things different now, after Voldemort? Of course, they were. 

Did she not love him quite as much as she used to? If she was being honest—yes. 

But she knew that Harry would be her past, present, and future—and she didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Instead of reading into her conflicting emotions, she reached for Harry's face and kissed him as hard as she could. Harry, eager for any silver of her affection, kissed her back just as ardently, grabbing her face and digging his nails into her cheeks, just as she liked. "Make love to me, Harry," she whispered, crawling on top of him to straddle him with her legs. She needed a distraction—she needed something to assure her of her love for him. Even if it was through sex; an act she didn't enjoy much.

"Here? Are you sure?" 

She nodded, moving her hips to strengthen her reply. Harry, weak to her feminine willies, obliged.

*~*

Just as Clementine was exiting Professor Flitwick's classroom, he beckoned her to his desk, a strange expression on his face. She approached it with tentative moments. 

"Good afternoon, Professor. Was there something amiss with the assignment I turned in?" she questioned. 

"Oh, of course not. Quite the contrary," Flitwick replied. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing, "See, Mr. Malfoy has been having trouble recently in my class, and seeing as your one of my best students—" 

_No_

_Absolutely not!_

Clementine cut the Professor off abruptly, "No. Absolutely not." 

Flitwick, puzzled by her sudden outburst, decided to go for a technique that was tried and true. Bribing.

"Well, Miss Sinclair, seeing as you have been receiving low marks in potions lately—"

"Low?! I'd hardly call an Exceeds Expectations _low_ —"

"I would've thought you would have taken advantage of this opportunity," Flitwick went on, not missing a beat. "I hope you haven't forgotten the weight my opinions have on Professor Snape." 

Clementine was torn. Despite what she had exclaimed to the Professor, an Exceeds Expectation _was_ a grade she wasn't joyed about. She really did need that endorsement from Flitwick to bump it up to an Outstanding. 

But on the other, Draco was Harry's archnemesis. Tutoring him could be perceived as an ultimate betrayal, an act of war. But as she looked into Flitwick's eyes, she felt a strange emotion overtake her. She thought of how it would feel to spend time alone with Draco, of how he would treat her. If he would be as kind to her as he was last weekend in Hogsmeade.

"Well, alright then. Tell him to find me," she said, giving into Flitwick's request. 

"Of course, thank you, Miss Sinclair." As Clementine walked out of the classroom, she had one thought coursing in her mind. 

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

*~*

Sure enough, Draco approached Clementine after dinner, grabbing her wrist to gently pull her out of the crowd. Clementine pretended not to feel shocked by his touch. 

"Professor Flitwick told me you said yes to tutoring me. Thank you, honestly," Draco stated. Clementine feigned indifference at the grip on her wrist—even though she wanted to scream out and get it off. 

"You don't have to thank me. Let's just keep this between us, alright? It's not that I don't like you I just..." she trailed off, but Draco knew where her sentence was going. 

"You just don't want to piss off Potter." 

Her silence was enough to answer for him.

"I'm sorry, Draco. Things have just started to improve between us..." She continued talking, but Draco wasn't listening. He was savoring the fact that for the first time in his life, Clementine Sinclair had called him by his first name. Plus, he did not need to hear about how she and Potter had amended their relationship. It was like rubbing salt in his already bleeding wound.

"Are you even listening to me?" Clementine asked. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating, ignoring the way it drew Draco's eyes to her chest. 

"Of course I am, _Clementine_.," he replied. He enunciated her name so nicely that Clementine almost let her mouth fall open. 

She felt her cheeks heat at the way her name seemed to roll off his tongue, making it seem much more erotic than it actually was. _What_ , she thought, _erotic_? Has she gone mad? "So, the first-name basis now? You're quite confident Draco. I wouldn't be too presumptuous if I were you," she teased. She tried not to pride herself on the fact she managed to win a small smile from him. 

"Oh, something tells me I'm not being presumptuous at all," he teased. "You know, like the way you reddened when I called you Clementine. Or the way I can hear your breathing from here."

Draco smirked; glad he was finally making headway with the girl standing across him. "Don't let it go to your head, Draco. If I'm going to be tutoring you, I have to at least tolerate being in the same room as you." 

And to this, Draco laughed—the first real laugh he had had in ages. "Oh, that horrible am I? How you wound me!" Clementine snickered. She was surprised at how easily the conversation could flow between them. 

"God, Draco. You really _are_ as insufferable as Harry says you are," she said lightly. She had been so absorbed in the easy banter, that it took some time before she finally noticed her boyfriend waiting by the doors of the Great Hall, as if looking for someone.

"I should go. Harry looks ready to panic," she muttered. Draco turned around and—sure enough, there he was.   
_Pathetic_ , he muttered. "I'll meet you at the library tomorrow. You're off fifth block, right?" Draco asked. She nodded in response, already walking off to meet Harry.

The second she was within reach, Harry grabbed her and pulled Clementine into a long, slow kiss. One that would've normally taken her breath away, but today just resonated as something to tick Draco off. 

"Is something wrong? What did Malfoy want?" Harry queried the moment they pulled away.

Clementine hated the way his name sounded in Harry's mouth. "Nothing. He was just asking about some Charms homework," she replied, feeling uneasy about how easily the lie came to her.

"Let's go up to the common room. I promised Neville during DA yesterday I'd help him work on the Patronus charm," Harry stated, leading Clementine away from the Great Hall. "

Have I ever told you how much I love you?" said Clementine. She was still basking in the warmth of her conversation with Draco. 

"Only about a hundred times. Not that I'm complaining." Harry paused his walk only to kiss her quickly.

As they walked up the steps to Gryffindor Tower, Clementine mentally cursed herself. How could she have talked so casually with the boy who had made Harry's life as hard as possible for five years? Who was now on the very Squad to out the DA, and possibly get all of them expelled? She hated the fact that she had even talked to him, let alone agreed to help him.

She pictured his stupid smirk—and hated that too. His blond hair. The certain shade of grey his eyes carried. 

But most of all, she hated that she didn't really hate him that much.


	8. VI. Better Than Revenge

**One year prior...**

Harry had spent the past two weeks in absolute self-loathing. He was trying as ardently as he could to squash his feelings for Cho Chang, but his attempts seemed to be in vain. His guilt only doubled as he realized Cho would no longer look away from his longing glances, or she would be in the stands in his Quidditch practices. Practices not even _Clementine_ attended. 

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop her.

He didn't know how much longer he could keep up the act, how much longer he could hold out from proclaiming his affection for Cho. Harry hated himself for even thinking about hurting Clem. He had been spending many sleepless nights writing letters to Sirius, imploring him to tell him what to do. How to handle the situation without hurting the person he cared about most. Sirius, who was beyond joyed that Harry reached out to him for advice, had kept it plain and simple. You either tell her now and minimize the hurt. Or you don't.

And let her make a fool of herself when the truth inevitably comes out.

Decision made; Harry decided to go ask Cho to the Yule Ball. He would talk to Clementine after and explain to her how heavily the decision weighed on him. How sleep had seemed so elusive for months now, and how just the _thought_ of hurting her made his heart clench in excruciating pain. 

Right now, he was off to the Ravenclaw common room, hoping to catch Cho exiting or entering. Luck was on his side that day, as he found her lingering by the door, talking to some Hufflepuff's. The sight of her alone had his mouth drying up, his heart pounding so hard he felt its beat in his ears.

"Harry!" Cho exclaimed, the second she laid eyes on him. She found her way to him, happiness seeming to ooze from her pores. 

"Hi, Cho. How are you?" Harry replied. There was no need to jump right into it, was there? 

"Oh, I'm lovely. The Yule Ball's this weekend, and my dress just arrived this morning!" Harry's mouth twitched as if he was trying to smile. Cho, as observant as ever, queried, "Is something wrong? Are you feeling well?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering if...I was wondering if you'd like to...to go to the ball with me..? If not, I und—" Harry was cut off abruptly by the weight of her mouth on his. Kissing her—in reality—was much better than the million times he had imagined it. He gave in to her, his mind going completely blank until all he felt was her, all he saw was her. The kiss seemed to go on for ages until Cho summoned the strength to pull away. "Was that a yes?" Harry asked, his knees going weak at the sight of her freshly kissed mouth.

"Don't be dimwitted Harry. Of course it was." She kissed him one more time, though this one was nowhere near as long as the previous. As she disappeared, Harry waited for the crushing remorse to come, to settle upon him, and plant itself in the depths of his heart. 

Surprisingly, it didn't. All he could feel, all he could think about was how mind-boggling it had been to kiss Cho, and how he was counting down the minutes until he could do it again. He made his way back to the common room, unable to wipe his stupefied grin off his face.

"Hi Harry," muttered Hermione when he had entered, without looking up from the book she was reading. When she received no response, she peeked out from her lashes and saw the dazed look on his face, the blankness in his bright blue eyes. "Harry? Are you intoxicated?" She asked, panic invading her voice. She sat up, set her book aside, and approached Harry as a mother would approach a sick child. 

"What? No, no of course I'm not."

"Then what's up with that look on your face?" she pressed. Harry hesitated, knowing that Hermione was Clementine's best friend—that whatever he said would reach Clem's ears in record time. But what did it matter? He was on the verge of talking to Clem anyways, right? Verdict reached, he explained the situation to her, his chaotic feelings for Cho, his stoic love for Clementine. How he had spent weeks going back and forth between the two girls, trying to find a way to avoid Clementine any misery.

Hermione felt betrayed. She felt so, wholly betrayed. An influx of emotions overtook her abruptly—so quick her head hurt. 

Anger, confusion, melancholy. Hermione thought she would explode from the flood of sentiments. She felt her fury build, and build and build and build until her hand reached up and hit Harry square on the cheek.

Stunned, Harry staggered back. "I—" he started, trying to explain himself. But Hermione would let him do no such thing. 

"Are you mad? Have you gone completely _mad_ Harry Potter?!" Harry was taken aback by the indignation. He, stupidly, thought she would be happy for him. "Clementine does everything for you, you twat! And how do you repay her? By cheating on her with some sleazy, dirty—" 

"Don't talk about her like that!" Harry spit before his mouth could catch up to his brain.

"Oh, so now you're defending her? Never pegged her for a homewrecker." He opened his mouth to protest, but he was too slow.

"And I never pegged you for a cheater."

At that moment, Harry felt his decision shift. The cost of being with Cho, he realized, wouldn't just be his relationship with Clementine. It would be his friendship with Hermione, his brotherhood with Ron. God knows even Molly Weasley would be disappointed in him. Harry knew that his feelings aside, Cho was a mistake. A mistake he should have never committed, and a mistake he vowed to never make again.

"Look, Hermione, even if I decide to be with Clementine, she won't forgive me after this. I cheated on her," Harry whispered, settling into an armchair. 

"No, she won't forgive you. You're right." 

"So what do you propose then? You're the genius, right?"

"You don't tell her. This stays between us."

**Present-day...**

Clementine was on her way to the library, her charms textbook tucked under her arm. She tried to ignore the frantic beating of her heart, the way her feet seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. She felt vile for lying to Harry, but she had no choice. If she told him, he would do everything to stop her and therefore lose her endorsement from Flitwick. If she didn't, she risked him finding out and multiplying his anger, but he wouldn't find out. Clementine, foolishly, thought she was smart enough to keep the arrangement under wraps.

Pulling open the heavy door of the library, she made her way to the most secluded table she could find. Draco, who was zealous to see her, was waiting for her there, fiddling with the pages of his textbook. "Hello Draco," murmured Clementine, setting her belongings down on the table. 

"Clementine," he responded; his tone polite, but the small smile on his face letting her know he would be kind today. With Draco, she never really knew when he'd be a git to her, or when he'd be a complete gentleman.

"So, let's get started. Um, have you started the essay on the Aguamenti charm?" Draco shook his head. He didn't even know they had an essay. "Then let's start with that, then. Although, I will say it's been assigned for three weeks—" 

Draco cut her off, "Oh, piss off. Not all of us have to make up for our blood status." He meant for his words to come across as teasing, but to Clementine, they came off as something else entirely. Her defenses shot up again, any progress Draco had made with her forgotten.

Draco took notice almost immediately, "Clementine...I—" 

"No, no it's fine. I don't know why I expected anything different from the prince of Slytherin himself. Turn to page one-oh-four, it has the basic properties of the charm." She opened the book with much more force than necessary but was met with a pair of veiny hands shutting it closed. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so harsh. Just, please don't look at me like that, alright?" Draco muttered; his gaze fixated on her.

"Like what?" She heard him sigh, his hands twitching as if aching to reach for her. 

"Like I just killed your dog and left the body for you to find." Regardless of her desire to remain stoic, she giggled. "Do you forgive me?" He continued, teasing evident in his tone. 

"Not entirely. Now stop—"

"It was a stupid thing to say," Draco interjected. "It was stupid and cruel. I shouldn't have and I didn't mean a word of it." 

Clementine met his sincere gaze for an abated moment before sighing, relaxing her tense posture. "Whatever, Draco," she said bashfully. And with the use of his first name—Draco knew she was no longer hurt. 

After an hour of assisting Draco with his paper, the two seemed ready to call it a day. He had managed to finish one scroll of parchment out of the three he needed, but he thought his brain would explode with all the knowledge Clementine was cramming into it. 

"You're a better tutor than expected, Clementine." Clementine turned to him, feigning hurt. 

"Did you fail to read the dozens of raving reviews I have, Draco? The nerve!" She felt bliss fill her as Draco laughed with her. Though the conversation had been strained after his outburst earlier, Clementine was trying her hardest to defuse the ever-growing tension between them. Tension—that she was not entirely opposed to.

They walked out of the library together, Clementine pausing every once and a while to say hello to a friend. Draco didn't miss the strange look they shot him each time, questioning what he could possibly be doing with Harry Potter's girlfriend. How desperately he wanted for her to be associated with _him_ , and not Potter. How desperately he wanted for it to be him dragging her into abandoned corridors to snog, and for it to be him watching her come undone.

He felt himself falling down his familiar rabbit hole and slammed the door on those thoughts before they threatened to overtake his good spirits. All too soon, they reached the entrance of the library, where they would part ways.

"Can we meet again tomorrow? I can't imagine finishing this essay without your help," Draco asked. A part of Clementine did wish to see him again the next day, but she knew she couldn't. She had a meeting with the DA—and it would raise too many questions she was unprepared to answer if she missed it.

"I have plans tomorrow, but how about Saturday? The essay's due Monday, after all." The boy across from her nodded, desperately trying to hide his disappointment.

There was a moment where neither of them said a word and just... _stared_. Draco had gotten his first real, unperturbed look into her honey-brown eyes—and he found himself too overcome and too intoxicated to snap out of it. 

His hand moving of its own accord, it reached up to cup Clementine's cheek, in a gesture that would have Harry hexing him before he could even conjure a counter curse. "Draco..." Clementine pleaded. She had meant for her voice to come across as a warning, but there was no mistaking the undertone of her intonation.

Longing.

"I should go," she whispered. 

"Yeah, you should." 

But he made no move to remove his hand from her face. Finally, after much deliberation, Clementine gently removed his hand from her face, ignoring the goosebumps rising on her arms. She mustered a small smile, and scampered down the corridor before the look Draco was giving her would make her explode. As she walked, she could feel his stare on her, boring holes into the back of her head.

Draco, on the other hand, was elated. He hadn't missed the way her pulse picked up under his touch. The way she had said his name... _Draco_. And he most definitely had not missed the way that for once in the five years of pining for her—she had reciprocated his affections. 

And he sure as hell was going to do whatever it takes for that to happen again.


	9. VII. The Nosy Gryffindors

As Clementine walked back to the Gryffindor common room, thoughts of Draco's skin on her flashed in her mind. She pictured his fingers, tracing delicately on her skin. His eyes, boring holes into her skin until she was left in shambles. She pictured his fingers again, this time in a _very_ different position than where they were moments ago. Blushing, she banished those thoughts from her head. How could she even think about another boy like this, when she had a perfectly decent boyfriend in front of her?

The self-loathing was so stifling she thought she would explode if she ever felt Draco's touch like that again. She tried once again to rid herself of her conflicting feelings, reminding herself of how awful Draco had been to her in the past. He had spent the last five years harassing her boyfriend and best friend, using Clementine as ammo against them at times.

_"Look, it's Potter's ugly girlfriend! Off to find your cheating Tri-Wizard champion?"_

_"It doesn't surprise me that the mud blood and Potter chose to befriend her, as well as that blood traitor Weasley. I mean, just look at her."_

As she entered the common room, she felt Hermione and Ginny's glare at her, so intense Clementine blushed from head to toe. "Is something wrong? Is Harry okay?" she queried. Hermione opened her mouth to diffuse the tension, but Ginny was quicker. 

"Don't act like what Harry feels could possibly interest you, Sinclair." 

Taken aback, Clementine fumbled with her scarf and nearly dropped it. "Of course it does Ginny. He's my boyfriend, isn't he?" 

It was a low-blow, going after Ginny's stupid crush like that. All three girls knew it. But Clementine's pride rivaled that of a Slytherin and she refused to back down. "Clem, what Ginny was trying to say was that we need to talk to you," Hermione interjected, trying to diffuse the growing tension. "I saw something the other day...and...Ginny just saw something right now. By the library."

Clementine's heart began to pound so hard she thought it would be impossible for it not to be heard.

Hermione continued, fumbling her way in the dark with the two girls, "I was leaving Potions late the other afternoon, intending to stop by Umbridge's office to ask her about the essay due Thursday. I was just about to go through the corridor when—" 

"When she saw Malfoy having a fit over you. A very loud one in fact. Didn't you say he was screaming her name, banging into each and every piece of furniture available, Hermione?" Hermione blushed, regretting confiding in Ginny. She was letting her admiration of Harry get in the way of her logic. 

"Not...not quite, Ginny. He was talking to Zabini when he went berserk, Clem. Absolutely mad. I confronted him about it but all he could do was call me mudblood and storm off." 

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Classic Malfoy."

"And I saw you two today. Outside the library. What's next, going to start skipping DA meetings to go stare into his eyes some more? Never took you for a sleaze, Sinclair," Ginny spat. Clementine knew this wasn't like her, at all. Ginny had always been kind, sweet even. _She was just angry right now,_ Clementine reminded herself. 

But that didn't stop her from lunging for the red-head, knocking down the coat hanger in her way. "How dare you Ginny Weasley!" she cried. "You know nothing of Harry and my's relationship, absolutely nothing! I'm sorry Harry didn't choose you, I really am. I'm sorry he's choosing to be with me, choosing to snog me, choosing to shag—" 

Hermione cut Clem off before she could say anything else she would regret, "Clementine! Please, restrain yourself! You too Ginevra, don't you dare try to look at me so smugly. Ginny and I were just curious as to what's happening between you and Malfoy, that's all Clem."

"Nothing...nothing's going on with me and Malfoy. I—I don't know...don't know why you would think there is."

"Probably because I saw him eye-fucking you—"

"We just wanted to know why you were at the library with him— _Ginny_."

"I've been tutoring him for Charms. Flitwick promised to talk to Snape if I helped Draco improve his grade. He's been getting horrible marks lately." Ginny backed off, embarrassed she had jumped to conclusions so quickly. 

"Oh. So, just tutoring then?" she asked, trying to mask her humiliation. 

"Yes, Ginny. Just tutoring. I love Harry, you both know that. Harry and I would never be unfaithful to the other. We respect each other too much." Hermione avoided Clem's stare. 

She knew perfectly well Harry had had no problem being unfaithful just months ago. "Of course Clem. We're sorry we ever assumed something else entirely," Hermione said, desperately hoping her voice wouldn't waver.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could withstand lying to her.

"Clementine...I'm sorry. I truly am, I—I just tend to go mad sometimes. Must be because I grew up having rows with my brothers constantly," Ginny joked. Clem smiled softly, reaching for her hand. 

"It's alright, Ginny. I said some horrible things as well, I'm sorry. I should've never gone for blows so dim-witted, so—so mean. I'm sorry." The two girls hugged, a ghastly difference from where they had been moments ago. "I'm going up to change out of my robes, I'll see you two at dinner?" Clementine asked, collecting her belongings. Ginny and Hermione nodded, settling into the common room couch while Clementine made her way to the dormitory.

She knew she had sworn to them it had only been tutoring to them, that there was absolutely nothing going on between her and Draco. Which was true, there _was_ nothing going on between the two teens.

So why did she feel as if she was lying?

*~*

"You have to tell Harry, and you have to tell her now!" Hermione yelled at Harry. Harry, who was on the other side of the room, felt that the Room of Requirement seemed to rise in temp until it was closer to boiling than to freezing. 

"Are you mad, Hermione?" he replied, angry. "If I tell her, the relationship I've been building for years will crumble! Do you not understand? Has your brain been fried from so many years of excess knowledge?!"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, Harry Potter! I am only trying to do what is best for my friends, you dimwit! You can't do this to her, Harry. Don't you understand that when she finds out—because she will—she will be completely deve—"

"I KNOW PERFECTLY WELL HOW DEVASTATED SHE WILL BE HERMIONE GRANGER!"

Stunned, a gasp escaped from Hermione's lips. "Can't you see what this secret is doing, Harry? The toll it's taking on you, on your wellbeing? You need to tell her or I will." The tortured boy strode to her, his eyes alight and blazing with desperation. 

"No! I—I'll tell her. She'll take it better from me than from you."

"When do you plan on doing it? Soon, I hope."

"Christ, Hermione. I've just started shagging her I don't—" Hermione hit Harry's bicep, cutting his sentence off abruptly. 

"What, so now that you can use her for cheap self-satisfaction you refuse to give it up? Harry, what's gotten into you?" she said hotly. The words that had left Harry's mouth had made her blood boil, and she nearly saw red just by looking at him. 

Harry, frustrated, sighed, "It's not about self-satisfaction Hermione. Ever since we've started having sex I feel...closer to her. Closer than I have in years. Forgive me if I'm not willing to give it up so easily." 

Hermione simply didn't know what to think, or what to believe. She knew Harry despised himself for cheating on Clementine, how much he wished he could take it back. But she also knew that a part of Harry would be perfectly content keeping this from Clem forever. It would undoubtedly destroy her self-confidence, her happiness... 

She knew that Harry's infidelity would crumble her to the ground.

"Alright, Harry. I'll give you time. Just please tell her before Christmas break. That's plenty of time, it's barely the beginning of November." 

Harry nodded, glad they were able to reach a compromise. "That's fine, Hermione. I promise I'll tell her before the holidays. Thank you—for understanding." Hermione nodded in response. Harry might think of her as a saint, but Hermione was so repulsed it was taking everything in her not to retch onto Harry's feet. Harry engulfed his friend into a bone-crushing embrace. He felt tears threaten to escape his ducts but willed himself not to give in. Not to show any weakness.

"Blimey, Harry, are you crying?" Hermione whispered. He wiped furiously under his eyes. 

"No, of course not. Go on then, I'll meet you in the common room."

When his friend finally disappeared from sight, Harry crumbled. He sat there in the Room of Requirement and cried until he felt as if he had no more ichor left inside of him. Until his eyes were burning, and his throat was raw. He prayed that not even his worst enemy would ever feel as devastated as he was right now. That no one ever felt the bone-crushing emotions he was feeling right now.

The guilt of having feelings for Cho was surely but slowly killing him; making him a completely different person than he once was. Silently, he prayed that no one ever felt the stifling guilt of infidelity he had enveloping him at all times. 

But somewhere—on the opposite end of the castle—Clementine was feeling the same guilt. The same awful feeling: guilt...self-loathing, _all of it_. 

She should've taken that as the first sign of her decaying relationship. 

She hadn't even touched Malfoy—but picturing it almost constantly had been enough for her to feel guilt. 

But she didn't. 

She really, _really_ should've.


	10. VIII. Blood-Status

"Yes, exactly! Just like that!" Harry exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. They were in a DA meeting, one where Clementine was immensely frustrated. She had been asked to summon a Patronus Charm—something that she had never conjured in her five years of magical education. She looked around her, and to her dismay Neville had just produced a Patronus, beaming with pride at the grey mongoose dancing in front of him. Dismayed, Clem resigned herself to the sidelines, watching in awe as her peers managed to produce the charms she so desperately needed. Harry took notice of her change and approached her immediately.

"Come on Clem, don't give up. Hardly anyone gets it the first time—"

"This isn't the first time Harry! Nor the second, or the third, blimey, not even the tenth! I—I can't do it, okay?"

Harry gripped his girlfriend's shoulders, his green eyes piercing into her brown ones. "Yes, you can Clem. What memory are you using?" 

She replied, "One of you. It's us at the Astronomy Tower, watching the stars." The boy grimaced, knowing that he alone did not make her happy enough to produce a Patronus. 

Choosing to ignore this, for now, he advised, "Well, seeing as that's not working, let's try for another one." Clementine opened her mouth to share what memory, but Harry stopped her. "No, I don't have to know. Just think of one, and say the incantation. Expecto Patronum." Clementine muttered the words under her breath, then began to rack her brain for the perfect memory.

Nothing came to mind.

She tried thinking of Harry again, but it was quite obviously not working.

She thought of Ron and Hermione.

No Patronus.

She thought of her parents, in their muggle home, hanging off Clementine's every word.

No Patronus.

Frustrated, and quite frankly infuriated, she thought of the last resort, a ditch effort.

She thought of the joy she felt when she heard the Sorting Hat yell Gryffindor from her head.

"Expecto Patronum!" she exclaimed, aiming her wand for a wall of mirrors. Gasping, she watched as a Newfoundland shot from her wand, mingling with the other Patronus in the room. 

"Clem, you did it! You conjured a fully corporeal Patronus," Harry exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her. 

"I—I did it! Oh my God! Thank you, Harry, thank you thank you!" She shouted, turning and conjoining her mouth with his. Harry kissed her back reverently, ignoring the gazes cutting into his back.

One of those gazes being Cho Chang.

As if sensing this, Harry jumped away from her, locking eyes with Cho in the process. If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now. Cho's dark brown eyes were boring holes so strongly into Clem's back Harry feared Clem would sense it, and turn around. She didn't.

"Alright everyone, good work today. I'm glad to see you all improving. We'll meet again soon, okay? Have a brilliant rest of your day!" Harry exclaimed, hoping to defuse the tension between him and the Ravenclaw. Sending him one last glare, Cho turned away from him and exited the Room of Requirement. He saw Ron and Hermione leave too, engrossed in their conversation. So engrossed they didn't notice Clementine and Harry linger.

"That was brilliant, Clem. You were brilliant." Clementine blushed, not used to the attention from Harry she had been receiving recently. 

"Well, I will say I had an excellent teacher. A quite handsome one too, in fact." Grinning, Harry pulled the brunette into his arms. 

"Is that so? What's the bloke's name? Should I be jealous?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. He's handsome, intelligent..." she trailed off, smiling coyly. Harry pulled her closer and tightened his grip.

"Come on now, go on."

Clementine laughed, punching Harry lightly in the chest. "You arrogant boy Potter! Let's go, maybe Ron will get rid of this tosser attitude of yours," she joked, pulling Harry out of the room. The couple was laughing loudly now, hanging on to one another. So riveted in each other, they didn't notice Draco Malfoy at the end of the corridor.

And ran straight into him.

"Draco!" Clementine exclaimed. Harry's grip on Clem faltered, and she was suddenly falling into Draco's grasp. Not much—but enough to have Harry's jealousy soar. He went to rip Malfoy's hands off Clem's waist...

And was met with surprising resistance from his pale arms. "Get—your hands _off_ —" Harry said roughly. Malfoy—upon realizing that he had unconsciously gripped her tighter—loosened instantly, stepping back the slightest bit. He was opening his mouth to apologize when—

"Didn't your father teach you not to mess with things that aren't yours?" Harry spat cruelly. "Or does the Mark on his arm make him a bit less loving?" 

Draco lunged at him, his wand gripped tightly in his large hand. "How dare you speak about my father, you filthy half-blood," he met Clementine's eye, and saw she was in no rush to come to Draco's defense, "You, and your filthy mudblood girlfriend." 

Clementine visibly recoiled at Draco's words. She felt foolish—naive. How could she possibly believe the boy had changed from, what, _three_ interactions with her? Two, maybe?

"You know perfectly well what your father is, Malfoy. And you know perfectly well what you are going to be soon if—" 

"Harry." 

Just by saying his name, Harry listened to Clem. Backed off. He took a step away from Malfoy and pushed Clementine the slightest bit behind his own figure. 

Clementine felt the slightest build-up of angry tears well in her eyes—and she knew without a doubt that Malfoy saw them. She saw the remorse fall on his face, and she saw his right arm lift the slightest bit before falling back to his side; his body gone stiff. And then something changed...something flickered in his face and she could practically see his walls of iron going up. 

"You need your girlfriend to defend you all the time, Potter?" he sneered. "Or are there things you _can_ do alone?" 

"You don't know _anything_ —"

"She must be a fantastic shag then...if you can put up with her insufferable attitude." 

Her mouth must've fallen open. She must've gasped because Draco's eyes snapped to hers automatically. Her expression of horror was enough for remorse—yet again—to fall on him. Ten times stronger this time. 

Harry reached for her, pulling her into his chest and throwing Malfoy the coldest glare he could muster. "You just never know when to shut your sodding mouth, do you?" he practically yelled. Draco opened his mouth to apologize to Clementine, but the lump in his throat rendered him incapable of forming words. Clem locked eyes with him, and in seeing the pleading in his eyes, looked away and let her eyes burn.

Harry, in seeing the forgiveness blossoming in her eyes, twisted her body and lead her down the opposite way of the corridor. Clementine turned one last time over her shoulder to meet Malfoy's eye—

And looked away. 

The way his face made her feel was dangerous. She couldn't risk taking a second look.

*~*

The moment he laid eyes on her, he acted, seizing her wrist and pulling her away from the crowd. "Draco, I—" Her own surprise cut her off, and she found herself willingly following him. 

"I'm sorry I had to do it like that, but it's the only way you'll talk to me. Blimey, it's the only way you'll even _look_ at me," he whispered furiously. 

Guiltily, Clementine averted her gaze, knowing fully well Draco wasn't wrong. She had been avoiding him. Ever since their violent encounter yesterday, she had avoided every possible interaction with him. Today, the day they were supposed to meet for Draco's tutoring, Clementine had planned on skipping out. But Draco would let her do no such thing.

"Of course I'm avoiding you Draco. You're really going to stand there and pretend you didn't insult my entire being less than twenty-four hours ago?" Draco swallowed, releasing the girl from his strong grip. 

"I-I'm sorry Clementine. You know my father is a sensitive subject, I lost it—"

"You know Harry's parents are a sensitive subject, yet you've tormented him about them for years? You know Ron's economic status is a sensitive subject, yet when have you given up the opportunity to bring it back up? Hermione and my blood status are a sensitive subject, yet—"

"I understand, Clementine. You don't have to torture me."

"Are you sure you understand, Draco? Because to me, it seems like you'll always be the same arrogant, pureblood manic, Death—" Clementine stopped, shocked by the vile words she was spouting.

"Go on, say it," he said softly. "Death Eater. It's what you think I am. It's what my father is," Draco whispered, refusing to let his vulnerability show.

Clementine felt a growing lump in her throat, her nails digging into her palms. "I apologize. I was out of line, I shouldn't make such serious accusations," she muttered, hanging her head in shame. Draco grabbed her chin roughly, nothing like the gentle touch he had shown before, and forced her to lock eyes with him. 

"Well, I guess we both have things to be sorry for now. Lovely." His grip tightened, his grey eyes growing darker.

"You have to understand that Harry and my friends come first Draco. Not you, not your father, not how you feel."

She might as well have gotten a sword and slashed his chest open. Clementine didn't mean to sound so harsh, she just needed to say something, anything to get him to stop looking at her like that, to stop him touching her like that. Draco's hands faltered, his gaze dropping. "I know. I never expected anything else."

It was a lie. He had. He had expected so, so much more. Foolishly.

"I forgive you, temporarily. Shall we meet again after dinner today? I would right now but lunch is about to start and I promised—" 

"And you promised Harry you'd eat with him. I understand. After dinner it is then," Draco interrupted, forcing a smile onto his face. Clementine smiled timidly, backing away from the boy in front of her. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Just as she was about to disappear out of sight, Draco yelled, "Clementine! Are you going to the Quidditch match this Saturday?" She nodded in response, replying, 

"Of course I am! Slytherin versus Gryffindor? Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Draco smiled, allowing himself to pretend for a few moments that she was going to watch _him_ play, and not Potter.

Clementine walked into the Great Hall, settling into a seat next to Harry. She immersed herself in a conversation with her friends, laughing and smiling as if she hadn't just been confronted by Draco Malfoy. She needed to get this stupid boy out of her head before it was too late.

Before she got in way too deep.


End file.
